


Table For Two

by fandomqueenregnant



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Artist Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake is a History & Mythology Nerd, Bellarke AU Week, Bisexual Clarke Griffin, Books, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Drawing, Endgame Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, I Blame Tumblr, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Modern Setting Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, One Shot, POV Bellamy Blake, Past Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Prompt Fic, Romantic Fluff, Sketches, Tumblr Prompt, fluff??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22414885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomqueenregnant/pseuds/fandomqueenregnant
Summary: One day she had walked up to Bellamy's table while he was studying for an exam. She had introduced herself as Clarke Griffin, a pre-med student in desperate need for a table. Bellamy had pushed aside his things and made room at his two-person table in the back of the room.For the next couple of weeks it had stayed just as packed in the small coffee shop and they continued to share the table every morning. Eventually the crowds died down and there was plenty of empty tables but Clarke never moved. And he never asked her to.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 3
Kudos: 165





	Table For Two

Bellamy sat down at the familiar wood table, the smooth surface cool against his hands. It was the same seat he had been using for almost a year now at a small but cozy coffee shop called Arkadia. He glanced at his watch, it was almost 8:45, she should have been there fifteen minutes ago.  
  
 _Forget about it. So what if she's running late? Some people actually have lives, Blake. _  
__

So he pushed the thought away and focused on his textbooks, losing himself in the statues and battles of Greece. Sometime later he heard the familiar thump of her bag on the table and looked up as she slumped in her seat.  
  
Her brilliant sapphire eyes didn't glance in his direction as she dug through her bag and pulled out her own textbooks and a sketchbook. Before she could even open one, the familiar waitress, Indra, set two mugs on the table in front of them and walked away. This was common enough there, they had ordered the same coffees every day since last March when it had all started.  
  
Bellamy remembered when the shop had just opened and it was packed to the last chair every morning. One day she had walked up to Bellamy's table while he was studying for an exam. She had introduced herself as Clarke Griffin, a pre-med student in desperate need for a table. He had pushed aside his things and made room at his two-person table in the back of the room.  
  
For the next couple of weeks it had stayed just as packed in the small coffee shop and they continued to share the table every morning. Eventually the crowds died down and there was plenty of empty tables but Clarke never moved. And he never asked her to.  
  
Sometimes Clarke brought textbooks and a laptop, sometimes her sketchbooks, on which days she'd put her back to the wall and prop her feet up on a spare chair, sketchbook balanced on her knees. Those days were Bellamy's favorites, when her eyebrows would furrow and he could watch her get lost in whatever charcoal or watercolor world she had created.  
  
They had never talked for more than a few minutes at a time, usually just small talk. Bellamy didn't know much other than her name was Clarke, she was trying to get her doctorate and she was an amazing artist. She had never tried to start a conversation but he had caught her trying to read his textbooks and papers upside down from under her gold hair. Not that he was one to talk, Bellamy had tried to catch every glimpse of her art he could.

His only extent of medical mumbo-jumbo was that Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. And he intended to keep it that way.  
  
Bellamy watched as Clarke took off her scarf and jacket, as if just remembering them, revealing a tight grey knit sweater that he made sure to tear his gaze from. He caught a mumble from her side of the table, "Damn this freaking snow."  
  
"Not from around here, huh?"  
  
Clarke's head jerked up at the sound of his voice and Bellamy saw her hesitation as she responded. "No, I lived in California up until a few years ago. I guess I'm still not used to New Zealand temperatures."  
  
Bellamy could picture her there in another life, tan and walking the streets in flip-flops and shorts. "What made you leave the beaches and sunscreen?"  
  
Her eyes hardened a little as she spoke, pushing the words out with visable force. "My, ah my Dad died and...I just couldn't stay there anymore so I decided to come here for school, a fresh start."  
  
"I'm sorry, I know how it feels to loose a parent." Bellamy's own Mom had died when he was 16, leaving him and his sister with their Uncle Marcus. But Clarke looked only a few years younger than him, mabye early twenties. She was probably about the same age when her dad died.  
  
Clarke's only response was small nod, one he had given countless times when people had told him the same thing about his mom.  
  
They sat in a comfortable silence for another twenty minutes, drinking their coffee and working when she spoke. "Hey, would you mind letting me borrowing your phone for a minute? I forgot my calculator and my phone's dead."  
  
Bellamy didn't think twice about it as he handed it to her and continued reading. After a second he looked up to see her smiling apologetically. "Could you, um, unlock it?...Please?"  
  
 _Shit_. "Oh! Yeah, sorry. I should have done that." He said, mentally kicking himself, and took it from her paint-splattered hands. The one time they talk and he had to fuck it up.

"No problem....It might not be any of my business but is that your, um, girlfriend? She's beautiful."  
  
For a moment Bellamy almost looked around, but as he unlocked his phone he realized Clarke must have ment Octavia. His lock screen was a picture of him with O's arms around his neck, her head on his shoulder as they both smiled at the camera.  
  
He almost choked out his answer, unable to say it fast enough. "No, no, no. That's my little sister, Octavia."  
  
Clarke's cheeks got a shade darker as she took his phone again. "Oh! Sorry, I shouldn't have made any assumptions ab--", She cleared her throat and tucked a hair behind her ear, "Octavia? Like from mythology?"

Bellamy was surprised she would recognize the name, let alone remember it's from mythology. "I didn't pin you for a history buff."  
  
Before she could respond, Indra came back and took their now empty mugs. "Refils? Yeah? Good."  
  
Neither of them had a chance to say a word before she walked away, which was fine by them. They always got refills, it was only 9:30 anyway.  
  
The conversation was dropped as they lost themselves in their studies again. By 10:15 they had both finished their school work and Clarke had gotten out her sketchbook.

Stuff always seemed to get done quicker with her around. If he tried getting anything school related done in his dorm it'd most likely involve not only six hours of sitting at his desk but also Miller throwing at least one shoe at him.

  
"Would you mind if I drew you?" Clarke blurted as he put his last book away.   
  
"Um...I mean, ah, sure. But...I get to ask you as many questions as I want. I'll get bored just sitting here looking pretty." So _mabye_ that was a shitty line.

  
She gave him a measured look, probably pondering if it was worth it. "Deal. Just...don't move too much."  
  
After Clarke had told him how to sit, Bellamy took his first shot. "You have any brothers or sisters?"  
  
"No, just me. But my friend Wells was like a brother to me."  
  
He didn't fail to see the change in the set of her shoulders and knew the answer before the question left his lips. "Was? Did he pass away?"  
  
She gave a small nod, silently asking him for a new question.  
  
"Why'd you decide to become a doctor?"  
  
"My--move you head a little to the left. Yeah, good. My mom is a doctor, it's always been in my house. And...I want to do my part saving people, so I thought _why not_ "  
  
"But you like art?" He said looking pointedly at her paint covered hands holding the sketchbook.  
  
"I love it. Expressing emotions and words and thoughts all at once through art just...I don't know. If I could do my doctorate and art I would, but...life doesn't work that way."  
  
Bellamy had never questioned what he wanted do, history had been his obsession since...well, before O was born. He had gotten lucky though, for the longest time he didn't know if he'd have a chance to pursue it and take care of Octavia. But she surprised him, become an even more amazing woman than he had expected.  
  
"Ok, rapid fire. Pineapple pizza?"  
  
Clarke met his gaze, daring him to question it. "Of course."  
  
"Ew. Ok, favorite color?"  
  
"Green."  
  
"Falcon or Enterprise?"  
  
"Falcon. _Obviously_."  
  
"Onion rings or fries?"  
  
"Onion rings with ranch."  
  
"Winter or Summer?"  
  
"Summer."  
  
"Greece or Rome?"  
  
"Um...Greece. Their architecture and statues are beautiful."  
  
Bellamy gave an appraising nod, _damn_ she was racking up some brownie points. "What's in your fridge right now?"  
  
"Umm...Some sliced cheese, eggs, jelly, leftover pasta, some vegetables, and...half a gallon of milk I _think_."  
  
He chuckled, thinking of the practicality bare fridge sitting in his apartment, waiting to be cleaned. "You cook?"  
  
Clarke snorted, which he assumed she did often. "Hell no, my old girlfriend tried getting me into it once and we're lucky the firemen didn't have to put it out."  
  
For a second his heart skipped a beat. _Girlfriend?_ He might not even be her type, or be single for that matter. But this was still just friendly conversation, so he pushed that thought off to the side.  
  
"Same, my friend Murphy let me help with lasagna once and I don't think it would pass health codes."  
  
She chuckled and looked up from her work, eyes shining with a mischievous joy that lit up the room.

Suddenly his phone rang and their gaze broke. It was Octavia. Great timing as usual. After excusing himself from the table, he walked outside, cursing he forgot his jacket, and pressed the green button.

Apparently her fiancee, Lincoln, was coming back from deployment for a few days. She invited him, and any plus one he wanted, to go to a semi-casual dinner with them next Saturday. Bellamy was surprised...And somewhat concerned that the first face that popped into his head at the thought of a date was sitting twenty feet away.

Bellamy told himself it was stupid, he barely knew Clarke. Well, he'd known her for a year, but that...didnt count. As he sat back down he continued to try and smother the idea. He found Clarke packing up her stuff, unable to catch a sneak of her sketch.  
  
"You leaving already, Princess?" He asked, suprised at the sore already forming on his chest.  
  
"Don't call me that. But yeah, sorry I've got to get to class. I'll see you tomorrow, and you better stay still next time."  
  
Later that night on his way home, the blonde took over his thoughts again and he reminded himself of every reason why it wouldn't end well. It wasn't a short list.  
  
She came back the next day, as promised, and every day after that. Clarke continued her drawing of Bellamy in her spare time and they talked between their work, asking each other questions and telling stories. The week went by in a blur and soon it was Friday morning.  
  
They were on their third cups of coffee when Bellamy's mouth betrayed him. "Clarke you want to go to dinner with me tomorrow night? Octavia's fiancee just got back from deployment for the weekend and wants me meet with them. You don't have to, I mean it's not super formal or anything and--"  
  
"Bellamy."  
  
It stopped his rambling short, thankfully, and left him staring like an idiot as her smile grew.  
  
"I'd love to go to dinner with you, Bellamy Blake." _ _ _  
___


End file.
